


To Have and Have Not

by Cxellover



Series: In Darkest Night [23]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Blood, Kidnapping, Multi, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-04-03 18:38:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14002137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cxellover/pseuds/Cxellover
Summary: John Watson is at the middle of the Spider's Web not Jim Moriarty and controls all who come in contact with him.John finds himself kidnapped because of something Sherlock did or didn't do and he is might peeved about it.





	1. Someone screwed up

The Phone Call:

“Seb, It’s Sherlock. I hate to ask but is John with you?”

“No, he left here over 6 hours ago saying he was going home. He said he had a surprise for you and needed to get home to prepare it.”

“Do you think he went to see Jim?”

“Jim has been here with me the whole time….You don’t think Mycroft?”

“No, first place I checked.”

“Do you think he was lying to you?”

“I highly doubt it since he came by the flat to drop something off for John and was astonished he was not there because he said he would meet him at the flat.”

“Have you called him?”

Seb could feel the annoyance radiating through the phone, “Never mind.”

“So now what?”

“Why don’t you come over to the house and see if you can figure out what happened after he left with that amazing brain of yours.”

“On my way.”

Seb sighed and turned to the man pretending to be asleep, “Get up Jim. We may have a problem.”

Jim looked at him in incredulity and pulled at the restraints holding him to the bed.

_-_-_-_-_-_

John Watson’s head hurt and his mouth felt dry. He opened an eye only to find that his head seemed to be covered with a burlap sack. He slowly came back to himself and tested his limbs to find out that he had been lashed to a chair with zip ties and tape. 

‘Where is the artistry?’ he thought, ‘No one uses rope anymore.’

“Is he awake?” he heard the voice of what he classified as the first man he was going to kill.

“Seems to be,” replied the voice of the second dead man.

The bag came off of his head and he found himself blinking as the light shining in his face threw everything else into shadow. 

‘How to play it,’ he pondered, ‘Am I here because of Jim or Sherlock?’

“You behave and we’ll return you to your master in one piece. You give us problems then we will start sending him bits of you to incentives him to back off and turn a blind eye to what we are doing.”

‘Still could be either,’ thought John and stayed silent.

He didn’t see the punch coming to the side of his head. The pain exploded and his teeth rattled.

“You listening to me?” 

John blinked like an owl and nodded.

“You got the camera ready?” came the second voice.

“Yah, I do. Should I mess up his face a little more before we tape this so they will know that we are serious?”

“Naw…..OK one more good ‘un.”

John relaxed his body knowing the blow was coming. Most of the damage came from the impact so if he went with it, it might not hurt as much.

They went right for his nose with a sharp jab. He heard the crack and could feel the blood pouring down his face and the back of his throat. They did seem to know what they were doing.

“There now they will know we mean business. Look at the camera for me.”

John raised his head slightly that seem to satisfy his captors. He could hear one moving behind him and then the feeling of cold steel touched his throat.

“I suggest you stay every still and very quiet right now Dr. Watson,” came the growl from behind him. He felt the knife push ever so slightly in causing a drop of blood to trickle down his neck.

“Ok go,” said the voice in front of him.

“Sherlock Holmes, we have Dr. Watson in a very secure location. If you care to have him live them you will follow the instructions in the package you will find under the morgue table at Bart’s. If you do not comply or we have any hint that you have gone to the police, we will dump Dr. Watson’s body in the Thames and you might find it in the spring if you are luck.”

“That’s good,” said the voice in front of him.

The knife came off his throat as the man moved back in front of the light to where the other man had been filming them.

“Let me see,” said the knife wielder.

They played the video and the knife wielder got upset.

“No you jackass! You were suppose to keep as much of me out of it as possible. I don’t need Mr. Bloody Sherlock Holmes identifying me because he saw my ruddy jacket in the shot. Cut it tighter.”

They set up it up again with the knife at John’s throat and shot it.

After about 7 takes, they finally had one that they both liked.

John was glad because his throat was stinging from all the small cuts that had been inflicted on both sides. 

“Ppppplease don’t hurt me,” he stammered deciding on giving them the harmless Dr. Watson that he had made sure to write. People were underestimating him before Sherlock now it was so much easier.

“Aww I think you scared him. Don’t worry Dr. Watson. I am sure that your master will do as we ask and you’ll be sucking his cock back at Baker Street in no time,” said the video maker

“I’m not gay,” he muttered.

“What’s that?”

“I am not GAY,” he said louder, “Why does everyone think we are a couple?”

“Maybe it is because you are such a cute couple,” said the knife man.

“Jesus,” said John.

“Ah don’t worry about it. Different strokes for different folks.”

They turned off the light and left him in the pitch black room planning what he was going to do to each other them once he was freed.


	2. A Need to Pee

Jim answered the door to find Sherlock on the stoop looking at the steps and the ground around it.

“Well?” asked Jim.

“Too many people walk through here,” said Sherlock.

“Come on in Sherl and let’s see if we can start to figure this out.”

Sherlock entered the house and followed Jim into John’s office or rather Jim and John’s office.

Seb was at the desk looking over the computer. 

“I have a location for his phone but I am betting that they dumped it.”

“It’s a place to start,” said Jim, “Sherl, you going with us or going to go off on your own.”

Sherlock thought for a moment, “I think there will be a better chance for me to see something there than here. How many ‘clients’ have been through here since John left?”

“Not many,” said Jim.

“A number, give me a number,” said Sherlock.

“Seven,” said Seb, “John wanted Jim to deal with that little Russian rabble that has been trying to be subtle about moving into our territory.”

“Again?”

“They are like rabbits, every time you think you have them under control, another burrow shows up on our lawn,” said Jim filing his nails.

Seb grunted and picked up the laptop.

They went to the underground garage where John kept a number of his vehicles at the ready.

Seb went to the Land Rover and got behind the driver’s wheel. 

Jim shouted, “Shotgun!” and ran for the passenger’s side front seat.

Sherlock sighed and put himself behind Seb.

Seb handed the computer over to Sherlock, “Put the wifi onto MorMor2 so we can follow the signal to the phone.”

“MorMor?”

“Don’t ask,” said Seb.

Don’t tell,” said Jim.

Sherlock did as instructed and they followed the signal to a trash tip down by the river.

In one of the bins they found John’s jacket with his wallet, cell phone and other items in the pockets. 

John’s cell phone vibrated as a text appeared.

‘Watch me’

It vibrated again and a video appeared.

It was focused on John’s face and all three men could see the blood running down his face from his nose along with the vivid mark on his face where he had been struck. He looked like he was panicking with the knife to his throat but his eyes told a whole other story. John was angry. All three men had seen that look and it not gone well for them so they knew who ever had captured John Watson had no idea what they had strapped to that chair.

‘Sherlock Holmes, we have Dr. Watson in a very secure location. If you care to have him live them you will follow the instructions in the package you will find under the morgue table at Bart’s. If you do not comply or we have any hint that you have gone to the police, we will dump Dr. Watson’s body in the Thames and you might find it in the spring if you are lucky.’

The three men went back to the car in silence. Each trying to figure out how they were going to find John. What they were going to do to the men who had John. And what is John going to do to Sherlock after all this since it was, apparently, his fault.

_ - - - - - - - - 

John flexed his wrists against the zip ties trying to figure out how much give he had in them. The blood on his face had dried and it itched like crazy. 

So it had something to do with a case that either Sherlock has been called in on or will be called in on. He didn’t know if it could be tied to anything that his group was doing. What he did know is that he had to play the sidekick role to the great Sherlock Holmes like the stories that he had put up on the web log.

He decided to test how empathetic his captors were.

“Hey,” he yelled as loud as he could, “Hey!”

The door opened up and a man entered with a ski mask on his face. John studied the exposed eyes looking to see what he was dealing with. Not dead eyes so there was something there to work with.

“What?”

“Look mate, I have to pee. I drank too much tea today and it’s getting to be a little bit of an emergency.”

John waited to see the reaction. If there were empathy or sympathy then he would be out of here in half an hour. If they decided to play tough, it was going to take a little longer. Also he would have to dislocate his thumbs and he hated doing that.

“Hold on,” said the man which John recognized the voice as the Camera Man.

“I’m trying,” he said with a grin.

He could see the face move under the mask, ‘half an hour it is,’ he thought.

In short order the two men entered the room. The Camera man was holding a portable male urinal.

‘Damn it,’ thought John, ‘Thumbs it is.’

The other man held a gun on John and said, “Get to it.”

Camera unzipped John’s pants and pulled out his cock inserting the head into the urinal. John did his business and pretty much filled the bottle. Camera took pains to put John back together. John observed that the man had medical training probably a nurse.

The other man said menacingly, “Let’s hope that your master responds before you need to do that again.”

‘Time limit,’ thought John, ‘So the clock is ticking.’

“Thank you,” he said sounding as grateful as he could. Camera man went to pat him on the shoulder but then thought better of it.

‘So the other man is in charge,’ came the thought.

They left taking the urinal with them and the door slammed shut as the lights went off.

John proceeded to work on dislocating his thumbs to get out of his bonds before they came back.


	3. Manners are alway good form

The trip to Bart’s was rather tense. 

Each man was trying to figure out what Sherlock had done or not done that lead to the kidnapping of John.

“They hacked the security camera,” said Sherlock, “Dammit.”

“Excuse me?” said Jim.

“Remember that John’s phone rang when I pulled it out of his pocket?”

“Yeah,” said Seb.

“Didn’t that seem a little timely to you?” asked Sherlock.

“Fuck,” said Jim, “so they saw all three of us.”

“Maybe not,” said Seb, “You and I were back at the car when Sherlock found the coat and brought it back to us. I am betting that the camera was focused on the bins not the street.”

“Still that could be a problem,” said Sherlock.

Jim was getting agitated, “If anything happens to John I am taking it out of your hide Sherlock.”

Seb growled, “Calm down or I will gag you Jim. I have a feeling that Sherlock is not the root cause of this one.”

“But they are calling him out!”

“A lot of people call me out. They don’t want me poking my nose into their business.”

“So they preventively kidnap John!?!?!?” said Jim.

“I am serious about that damn gag Jim. Get it together. The two of you are probably the smartest guys on the planet besides John. If you can’t find him, then…”

The rest of the sentence went unsaid.

“Molly at the Morgue?” asked Seb.

“I texted her but no reply. Signal strength in the morgue itself is not the best,” said Sherlock.

They parked in John’s spot and put up his parking pass.

“Jim why don’t you stay here,” said Seb.

“But…” 

Seb kissed Jim, “I promise you a treat if you obey me.”

Sherlock handed the laptop to Jim, “Here, see if there is any chatter going on that might help us.”

“I’m not your servant Mr. Holmes,” said Jim.

“No but you are John’s,” said Sherlock.

Seb and Sherlock made their way to the morgue to find Molly working on a recent gunshot victim. The tattoos revealed the man’s roots in the Russian Solntsevskaya Gang.

“Should I stop looking and file the usual report,” said Molly as the two men entered the room.

Seb took a careful look at the corpse, “Nope. Not one of ours although that might be coming shortly.”

“So why are you here?” she asked going back to examine the body on the slab.

Sherlock started to feel under the tables in the room until he found what he was looking for.

“Ah ha,” he said pulling a large brown envelope from under the table nearest to the door.

“John’s missing,” said Seb to Molly.

“And they are leaving you messages here,” she said, “That’s a bit not good.”

Sherlock grunted as he examined the envelope carefully before opening it.

“What does that tell you?” asked Molly.

“All the materials were bought at the same stationary shop. It was placed here three days ago so they have been planning this for a while.”

“What have you done Sherlock?” asked Molly with a dangerous edge in her voice.

“Nothing!” he exclaimed.

“Sherlock,” Molly went over to Sherlock and slapped him soundly across the face. She reached into his shirt and grabbed his collar forcing him to his knees.

Seb found himself dropping to his knees as well.

No one messed with Molly. John had made it clear that her power over them was absolute. 

“Think,” came the command.

Sherlock look at the ground and held up the envelope to her.

She sighed and said, “Get up.”

Both men rose to their feet.

“I do not need any of you to bring your shit into my workplace. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes Ma’am,” came the reply from both men.

“John and I have an agreement that you both well know the details of. This skirts that agreement.”

She opened the envelope and pulled out several sheets of paper and a map. There was silence while she read her way through the materials.

“Well this one is not your fault Sherlock other than you are Sherlock Holmes the great detective. Seb, this doesn’t involve you at all either unless John decided that the Mafia needed a dressing down.”

“Mafia?”

“As in the real Mafia Seb,” she said handing the papers to Sherlock, “Apparently something went missing and they want Sherlock to find it for them before time runs out.”

Sherlock read through the papers and opened the map onto another autopsy table.

“I thought John was in tight with the current heads of that gang,” said Molly.

“This is from two subordinates that have really screwed up. Interpol apparently intercepted a shipment that included a courier packet with the names of the family currently living in London. The packet has to be extracted before it is found,” said Sherlock handing the papers to Seb.

“Is a visit to Mycroft in order?” asked Seb.

Sherlock pulled out his phone and dialed a number, “Brother, apparently we need to see each other again today. Meet me at the flat in 20 minutes……I don’t care who you are talking to. No, it has nothing to do with that matter. 18 minutes and counting.”

Seb had the car keys in his hand before he knew he was putting his hand in his pocket.

Sherlock said with a slight bow, “Thank you Mistress.”

“Well at least one of you remember your manners,” said Molly with a dismissive wave.

Seb knew that he was screwed. He didn’t know how but he knew there would be a price paid for his lack of manners.

_-_-_-_-_

Dislocating his thumbs was not John’s favorite activity. Dislocating someone else’s thumbs was much more fun in his books. He managed to get his wrists free of the zip ties and was about to attack the tape holding his arms and chest to the chair he was sitting in when the light went on in his face.

“Well fuck,” he thought.

“Apparently he has learned well from his master,” said Knife as John thought of him. He was the more dangerous of the two.

The ski mask wearing man grabbed his right hand and squeezed down on his thumb hard.

John yelped at the pain radiating from his hand through his arm. He decided to play it up and squeezed a few tears from his eyes, “Please don’t hurt me! I don’t know anything!”

Knife chuckled, “I bet you don’t. How is it playing the fool to that pompous git? He must make you feel a right round imbecile on a daily basis.”

“Oh you have no idea,” said John.

“Right, well we need to be off and can’t have you rescuing yourself.”

John saw the bag and said, “Really?”

The bag was roughly put over his head while his wrists were now handcuffed to the chair with tape attaching his wrists to the chair making his thumb trick now impossible.

He jumped a bit as he felt something touch the crook of his arm.

“Shhh” came the voice of Camera, “Don’t move. I wouldn’t want to screw up and miss the vein.”

John sat stock still as he felt a needle puncture his skin and the drug being delivered to his system.

“Don’t worry,” said Camera, “It won’t show up on any drug screening so you can keep your license intact.”

In a strange way John was grateful even though his practice was a front for his other activities.

‘Ok’ he thought as his mind drifted into unconsciousness, ‘Camera might get to live.’ 

He started his list as to what he was going to do to anyone involved in this as he felt himself passing out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone reading this. Double thank you to those who are commenting.
> 
> I do plan to get back to my classic Holmes/Watson piece soon but I did find out that the anthology where the first story I wrote in that series will be published later this year. More details when I have them.


	4. Buried under work

Jim and Seb dropped Sherlock off a couple of blocks from Baker Street.

“I’ll call when I know where we are going next,” said Sherlock.

Seb nodded. Jim glowered at Sherlock unable to say anything due to the gag in his mouth.

Sherlock grinned, “Ah Jim, I do so love you this way.”

Sherlock made his way quickly back to Baker Street. He made a few text to various people who needed to be in the loop and some that he needed to help him find John.

Exactly 5 minutes after he had gotten home, he heard his brother’s footsteps on the stairs.

Sherlock sat down and waited for his brother to enter.

Mycroft opened his mouth to speak only to be cut off by Sherlock’s order, “SIT.”

“Now brother I have very little time to go over all the ground that has been gone over with a fine tooth comb. You know where I stand on the subject of John and I know where you stand and why you stand there. And believe me that I will use what we have if I have even an inkling that you are even partially responsible for any of this.”

Mycroft closed his mouth and nodded with resignation. He sat down in the chair that Sherlock gestured to.

“At this juncture I do believe that you are innocent in John’s abduction.”

Mycroft’s eyes lit up with hope that Sherlock quickly quashed, “However I do believe that your minions or people in the government have accidently caused this. And it is not due to his activities but because these men believe I can solve their problem and this was my incentive to do so.”

Sherlock showed Mycroft the video and then handed him the file that Sherlock found in the morgue. He went into the kitchen and made them tea while Mycroft read and made some phone calls.

He put the tea next to Mycroft and sat down in his chair working his way through all the evidence that he had at hand. 

A knock at the door broke his train of thought.

Mycroft got up and went to the door. He opened it and Sherlock could see his assistant on the other side with courier pouch that she handed over to Mycroft, “I believe this is what you were talking about.”

“Did you make copies?” Mycroft asked.

“Yes,” she said with a slight smile.

“Destroy them and forget that these papers exist. Make sure everyone who touched these papers understand the consequences for even remembering that these passed through our hands.”

A look of incredulity passed over her face and vanished as quickly as it had arrived, “I understand Sir.”

Mycroft handed the packet to Sherlock, “My group resealed it so you cannot tell that the packet has been opened. That should help you get John back more or less intact.”

Sherlock took the packet from his brother, “You know if anything happens to John, there will be consequences for both of us.”

Mycroft looked startled for just a moment.

“If you have anything to say, I suggest you say it now. We might not get another chance.”

“I didn't know…I assumed you were safe if I….”

“I am only safe if John is safe Mycroft. I strongly suggest you meditate on that.”

Mycroft opened then closed his mouth. He gave a half bow and left.

John’s phone pinged in Sherlock’s pocket. 

He pulled it out and tapped in John’s code.

Message: Time is running out Mr. Holmes. Your pet is going to be in rather dire straights unless you give us what you want.

There followed a picture of John in a coffin with his arms crossed over his chest as if dead.

The next photo was the coffin closed and in a grave. 

The final shot was the coffin with dirt on top of it.

Message: Do you have what we want?

Sherlock typed, “Yes” 

Message: Instructions shall follow shortly. Time is not John Watson’s friend Mr. Holmes.

Sherlock pulled his phone out of his other pocket and dialed, “Seb, pick me up in the usual place. We have to save John and I know where we need to go.

-_-_-_-_-_-

John came to in the dark. He first felt the mask over his face then that his hands were zip tied across his chest. 

He wiggled a little to feel out the space he was in. 

He felt a cold panic welling in his chest as his mind went wild with where he was.

He slowed down his breathing realizing that he was breathing in the mask. He could hear the hiss of oxygen being feed into it. 

He discovered that his ankles had been zipped tied as well. 

He heard a dull irregular thump and the faint sound of a piece of heavy machinery. 

His brain put the sound together rather quickly since he had been on the other side of this scenario more than once.

Buried alive his brain thought as he started to panic. He worked hard to get control of himself because he knew that the oxygen would only last so long.

He worked out that he was in a metal coffin with a rather comfortable interior. 

First things first, he thought and managed to get his wrists free from the zip ties which seemed more for show than restraint. 

He felt his way around the small space he found himself in. He sorted out that he had a fireman’s oxygen kit supplying him air. He had no idea how much there was in the tank.

Getting out from his end was not happening. He had to depend on others to get him out of this situation. 

He tried to slow his breathing again and sort through what he was going to do to the people who put him in this situation. 

He had to trust that Sherlock would find him. His pet was smart and loved him.

Jim and Seb needed John in their lives so they would move heaven and earth to find him.

He let those thoughts comfort him as he drifted into sleep knowing that would be the best way not to panic.

His last thought was that he hoped that he would wake up…..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short but necessary to get to the next bit.
> 
> Hope you enjoy it.


	5. Grave Matters

Sherlock had Sebastian drop him off down by the docks and told him to wait for his return. Jim wanted to follow but was stopped short by the choke collar that Seb had put around his neck.

Jim pouted, “Is this necessary?”

“John’s orders and you know what happens when you go against those.”

“We don’t know WHAT John’s orders are or where he is or…”

Seb pulled on the chain hard causing Jim to stop talking and just try to get enough oxygen to breath.

“Shut it. I really don’t have time for you right now.”

Jim whispered, “You are worried too.”

Seb gave an imperceptible nod.

Jim watched Sherlock walk into one of the abandon buildings that was one of their drug houses, “He’s our best chance of getting John back.”

-_-_-_-_-_

Sherlock walked into the building and worked his way to the one door that was not broken off its hinges. He tapped it carefully six times and looked at the hidden camera pointed at the door.

The door opened and a tall skinny man motioned Sherlock to follow him.

Sherlock heard the sound of the electronic latch engaging as they walked.

“I got everyone I could Sherlock. Might be a couple of stragglers but I will get them caught up.”

“Time is of the essence Wiggins. And I honestly don’t think John has much more.”

Wiggins tapped a code onto the keypad and the lift doors opened.

“You know the Irregulars will do all we can. We love John. He saved most of us and we owe him our lives.”

Sherlock gave a slight smile, “No one more than me. I would be dead without him.”

They left the lift and walked down a steel and concrete hallway through a door that led into an auditorium full of people.

Sherlock handed John’s phone to Wiggins after unlocking it. Wiggins handed it to another young lad who plugged it into the audio-visual system for the room. 

“Last three photo please Laurence,” said Sherlock. The photos of John in the coffin, the coffin in the ground and the dirt upon the coffin were put on the screen.

There was a gasp from the people in the seats.

Sherlock said, “John has been kidnapped by some lower mafia scum due to their screw up. Now I have what they want. But what we want is their ass. I need to find John and these photos are the only clues I have. You will fan out over London and find this grave. Does anyone recognize anything here?”

There is a mummer as people consult each other. 

“Kensal Green!” came one voice, “I’ll bet my life that is Kensal Green.” 

Sherlock looked back at the photo, “72 acres of land to cover. Wiggins you get the search parties set up. I will get to the meet. Call me the minute you have him and tell me the condition he is in. Williams and Sharky, you are with me.” 

Laurence handed Sherlock the phone that buzzed when it touched his hand. He looked at the text and nodded.

Two big brutes that were sitting in the back came forward and followed Sherlock as he made his way back to the SUV.

“You are my back up. You know the hand signals?”

Sharky smiled and nodded.

“You can take some toys from the arsenal that Seb keep in the back just do not touch his rifles.”

Williams laughed, “I don’t think either of us is suicidal.”

“Clock is ticking gentlemen,” said Sherlock as he got into the vehicle. Sharky managed to fit in the seat in the back barely.

They drove across London to Saffron Hill to Guido’s on New Fetter Lane. 

Seb dropped Sharky and Williams off in front of the place. Sherlock kept his face hidden from the cameras.

Seb went around the block to find the back entrance to the place and let Sherlock off there. 

“We’ll be waiting for your signal.”

Sherlock grabbed a cab and went around to the front of the place.

He went in and walked to the counter paying close attention to the people around him. He saw that Sharky and Williams had been seated with a clear view of the place. 

“Ah, Mr. Holmes, we have a table for you,” said the host gesturing to a corner of the place. 

Holmes nodded and sat down. 

He did not wait long until he heard the voice of the man from the video, “Mr. Holmes, what may I get you?”

Sherlock looked up at the man who was desperately trying to look like a tough guy and it was obvious that he was anything but.

‘Amateurs’ thought Holmes, “You might get me the object I am seeking” he said smoothly while signaling Sharky that this was one of the men.

“Do you have what we are seeking?”

Sherlock pulled the large envelope from his coat and placed it on the table.

He saw the man’s eyes light up, “Nope. This goes nowhere until I have my property back.”

The man leaned it as if to help him with the menu, “Your property, fine choice of words. His mouth looks absolutely luscious. Tell me what is that mouth like moving on your cock.”

Sherlock balled up his fists and mentally counted to calm down,” So you didn’t try it?” he asked casually.

“Not enough time. Now you are going to place your menu over the envelope and my associate is going to bring you bread.”

Sherlock smiled. This was going to be easy.

He signaled to the other table to watch waiter. 

A nervous young man came with a basket of bread and a bottle of water. He placed this down carefully while looking furtively at the menu Sherlock placed as instructed.

Sherlock sighed and picked up the envelope and menu and gave it to the man. He quickly signaled that this was the second guy.

The young man went through the doors into the kitchen with the menu. The waiter was nowhere to be seen. Sherlock signaled and the two thugs just walked into the kitchen. Sherlock jumped up and went out the front looking up and down the street.

In his ear he heard almost at the same time, “Got them” and “Found Him”.

He breathed a sigh of relief and felt all the tension he had been holding release.

“Umm Sherlock, he’s not doing well. Shell did mouth to mouth to get him breathing but he is not waking up. We are taking him to our hospital.”

Sherlock tensed up again. 

Seb said, “Shall we kill them?”

“No, that’s John call as much as I want to,” said Sherlock, “put them on ice and await further orders. Someone come pick me up and get me to the hospital.”

-_-_-_-_

John found himself taking a deep breath as he awoke. He heard the beeps and the like telling him that he was not dead but nor was he in the pink. 

He opened his eyes slowly to find that the room lights were dimmed. He could make out several shapes on the chairs and couches in this suite. 

Sherlock was to his side first, “Don’t speak yet. They had to intubate you for a while.”

John nodded.

“The answers are three days since we found you. Not much damage. Yes we have them and await your orders. You need to really rest and then we can take care of the rest of it.”

John looked at Sherlock and held up his hand. Sherlock took the hand in his and said, “I was so scared I had lost you Sir. It must be my fault. Punish me anyway you must.”

John tapped Sherlock’s hand with his other hand and then signed ‘not your fault’.

Sherlock looked at him afraid there had been brain damage. How could it not be his fault.

John signed again ‘not your fault.’ He smiled weakly from under the oxygen mask.

Sherlock started to weep from relief.

Seb stepped into John’s line of site.

‘Do you have them?’ signed John. 

Seb nodded.

John smiled an evil smile, ‘I have plans for them’.

Both Sherlock and Seb shuddered at the look on John’s face but were so glad that it was not aimed at them.

John signaled that he was going back to sleep and they should do the same.

He sighed as he slipped back under. Oh what he had planned for his captors. He figured that by the end they were going to wish that Seb had put a bullet in their heads.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not dead. I sort of forced this chapter out to get to the next bit but it turned out better than I thought it would.


	6. Here's what we are going to do...

John sighed and stretched his legs. He hadn’t realized how much he enjoyed the ability to just move in any direction he wanted. Sherlock was kneeling next to him awaiting a command. 

John ruffled his pet’s hair and said, “Sherlock, please go sit in your chair. We have something we need to discuss.”

Sherlock looked very nervous. John could see the thoughts racing through his head.

John smiled, “You are not in trouble.”

There was a knock at the door followed by the door opening. Sebastian and James entered dressed rather well. They sat on the couch.

Sherlock relaxed just a little since Seb and Jim were there then it was a planning session rather than punishment for him. He frowned a little because it also probably meant that there was no pleasure to be had either.

“Sherlock, get out of your head. I need you here and now,” came the command from his master.

“To answer the questions you have all formed in your heads, I am fine. Sherlock has been looking after me quite well and Molly has given me the all clear for what I want to do…or rather what I want you to do.”

John paused and took a sip of the cup of tea that was at his elbow, “Did you do as I asked to our two Mafia Mistakes?” 

Seb nodded. 

“We took them back to the grave site and put them in coffins just like they did you except they were wearing straightjackets to constrict their movement even more. Nice touch Master. We buried them and then used the knockout gas in the canisters to render them unconscious. The boys then dug them up and took them to the farm. They are safely tucked away in the barn awaiting your pleasure,” said Jim with a maniac grin plastered across his fae.

“Did you take the photos of them?”

Seb removed an envelope from his coat pocket, stood up and formally crossed to John. Kneeling with his head slightly bowed, he offered the envelope up to John who took it and grabbed Seb’s hair pulling him in for a rough kiss, “You are such a good pet my Tiger.”

John looked at Sherlock and Jim who didn’t seem pleased that Seb was getting all the attention. John smiled and looked at the photos, “Do we have names for these bumblers?”

“This one,” Seb pointed to the man who had put his knife to John’s throat,” is Tony Alfonsi who is the godson of one of the underboss’ sons. The other is Leonardo Pisano who is the grandson of the Godfather himself. Tony is known as a bit of an idiot. He grew up here in England but was sent to his godfather in Italy in hopes to knock some sense into him. He came back with a rather inflated sense of self worth and his place in the Mafia. Since then he has been a problem to the point that he was busted down to courier, which is why he had the names brought in. Leonardo is the smarter of the two but grew up with Tony and is loyal to Tony to a fault. He has been described at Tony’s shadow or Tony’s butt boy depending how the person feels about both of them. Neither is married but Tony is engaged to a woman in Italy with the wedding set next year.”

“Do you think they are lovers?” John asked.

Seb turned his head to look at Jim and found his hair yanked hard pulling him back to John’s gaze, “do YOU think they are lovers? You do know how much I enjoy repeating myself.”

Seb could feel tears coming to his eyes from the hair pulling but he grounded himself and said, “No, I do not. Tony likes women exclusively and had banged his way through most of the girls he has met. Leonardo is playing straight but I think he loved Tony in a way that Tony will not return. I think he is only interested in Tony not in all men.”

“Oh even better that I would have hoped,” said John, ”Here’s what we are going to do…”

All three men sat slightly forward hanging on his every word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes it is set up. Yes I promise that I will keep writing. Yes comments make me happy and I do enjoy discussing what I am writing.
> 
> Yes I am waiting to hear from my beta about the next bit which we are going back and forth on because of adult content and how far is too far. I want you to enjoy this not be reviled by it.


	7. Not a Joke But a Wager

Sherlock was unsure. He was more unsure than he had ever been in his life.

His master had given him a set of instructions that he knew he had to fulfill. But it was hard to see how he was even going to start this. He knew nothing of how to do this.

He felt a hand thread its way through his curls and pulled hard forcing his head to look up at his Master.

“What’s wrong Sherlock?”

He didn't know how to answer without infuriating the man in front of him. John has called him by his Christian name rather than a nickname.

There was another sharp tug of the hair, “Get out of your head. Talk to me. I know you are worried about the wager. But you have to TELL me why you are so scared of this task. I have honestly given you harder.”

“I have never…I don’t know…I….”

“You want to make me proud?”

Sherlock nodded as much as the hand in his hair would allow.

“Sherlock, all you have to do is ask for my help and it is given. I am not throwing you in the deep end of the pool and telling you to sink or swim. I think you can win this.”

With that Sherlock’s world seemed to open up. He could do this with Master’s help.

-_-_-_-_-_-

Jim and Seb were in bed.

“What’s wrong?” asked Seb.

“What makes you think….” The hard slap across his face stopped him from saying something he would have to pay for.

“I want to win,” Jim said quietly.

“I know Jimmy, you are a competitor through and through and you don’t quit which is one of the reasons I love you.”

“But how can I win? Sherlock can learn at the feet of the Master.”

Jim felt two large hands around his throat choking him just a bit to get him to focus.

His lover growl, “Don’t you fuck’n turn into Sherlock on me. I am not going to spoon feed you on this one. You have your orders and I know you can do it.”

Jim felt the pressure ease off his neck.

“You can get into anyone’s head. I have watched you do it. All you have to do is convince him that it would be in his best interest to do what you want.”

Jim smiled. It was true. He could do that well. Isn’t that how he managed to stay alive as long as he had.

“There’s my boy.”

A hand went to Jim’s crotch and started teasing him with light touches.

“And good boys get a reward.”

Jim moaned as Seb teased him to fullness then gobbled him down. The orgasm was nice and allowed him to fall asleep all the while plotting how he was going to win.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=

John found himself unable to sleep. He was sitting up in bed with a book in his hand that he found himself reading the same sentence about seven times before he gave up and put the book down. Sherlock was curled up beside him with his arm across John’s lap. 

John looked down at Sherlock and a fond smile crossed his lips. He did care for his pet. More than he ever thought he would. 

He sighed. Had he put a challenge that his pet could not win? Jimmy was very clever and Sherlock is correct that he had never done this before. 

But he had seen in Sherlock the instincts he needed to do this. Sherlock had a sadistic streak in him that he refuses to recognize. Maybe this will light that fire within him.

John chuckled at that thought. The fun the two of them could have together….

John sighed again but then there was Jimmy and his natural abilities.

His mind went back to earlier today when he presented the challenge to his Tiger.

_--_--_--_

They were seated in overstuffed chairs in what Seb called the playroom.

In front of them tied up very tightly with a gag, hood, and white noise headphones to keep him from hearing what they were talking about was Jim. Seb had placed at fucking machine that was reaming Jim out. He was making such delightful noises as his ass was rhythmically pounded. John had placed a saucer under Jim’s leaking dick to collect any issue that escaped. 

Occasionally they would slap the ass in front of them with a riding crop which would, for a brief time, change the sound being emitted from the gagged mouth.

“Nice view Seb,” said John taking a pull from his glass of Scotch, “I must say you did a lovely job here.”

Seb blushed. John was the only one who could get him to do so as he had pledged his life to his Master and with that total honesty. He couldn’t hide his feelings from John if he tried.

“Thank you Sir,” he said.

“So how are our kidnappers?” asked John as he swirled the scotch in his glass.

“Uncomfortable….how are you?”

John gave him a look that had him squirming in his seat as much as Jim was.

“Recovering,” he finally replied, “According to my doctor there are no adverse effects from my kidnapping and burial or the drugs that they gave me. All wounds are healing. She wants me to go see someone to talk about the trauma I went through.”

Seb choked on the scotch he just drank, “A therapist? Really?”

John smiled, “I found that funny too. Sherlock had been hovering a lot since I got back. I wish I could get him to think about something or someone else for a while.”

“Well you made him what he is today,” said Seb tipping his glass in tribute to John.

“True and overall I do not want to remake him. I like my pet very much and we put a lot of effort to get him to this point.”

“But?”

John sighed, “I don’t know. I just wish I could get him to play with me rather than him getting so jealous if I want to play with someone else. We could have so much fun together if I could only get him to see that.”

Seb smiled a wistful smile.

“What?”

“I was thinking of when you took me under your wing and taught me so many lovely ways to get people to worship you as you beat the snot out of them.”

John laughed and then slapped Jim hard on the butt with the crop.

“I did enjoy that,” he said, “You were such a good student and even taught me a few tricks I didn’t know.”

Seb smiled a crooked smile.

“You have an idea,” said John, “I know that look. What is turning in your head?”

“It’s not a good one,” said Seb.

“Oh don’t underestimate yourself Tiger. You have a very devious brain,” said John.

Seb opened his mouth to protest that it was Jim not him who was so clever but the look he got from John made him shut his mouth fast and listen.

“I want you to compose your thoughts and then tell me your idea,” came the order from his Master not his friend.

Seb stood up and smacked Jim’s ass with the crop several times. Using the grunts and groans from the writhing piece of man flesh in front of him to allow him to organize the half thought in his brain. 

John watched and palmed the growing erection in his pants figuring out what he was going to do with it.

Seb gave a final crack across Jim’s back before sitting down and picking up his scotch glass that had been refilled.

“I know you have been trying to figure out what to do with our two ‘guests’ especially because both of them are related one way or another to some of your allies in Italy. So killing them outright would be a bad move. Having them vanish won’t help much either because you want to send a message that kidnapping you or Sherlock is a very bad idea without showing your hand to the world or at least the criminal world which would lead to you being attached to all kinds of activities that you have been careful to keep your name off of.”

John nodded.

“What if, rather than torturing them and killing them, you make them part of our gang.”

John looked puzzled.

“Or rather part of the stable,” said Seb.

The stable was what they called their prostitution operation that prided itself on catering to all adult tastes. They also tended to entrap pedophiles and turn them over to the police when they found out what they wanted. It earned them the trust of some honest cops as well as the ones they had on the books.

“As what? I don’t see either of these men as studs and we do have a level that we pride ourselves in as to quality. Only one of them might qualify as a bear and we would have to feed him into it.”

“Pets,” said Seb, “Train them as pets. People are less picky about how they look if they are mute holes to be filled. They would do well in that regard.”

John thought about it.

“Look give the one that you were going to let live to Sherlock and the other one to Jim. That way if Jim goes overboard then you will just have to ship the body home and say that you had nothing to do with it. Then you can train Sherlock as he trains his new pet. And you can decided if he is going to be able to keep it or put it to use in the stable at the farm.”

It was the perfect solution.

“Get them ready tomorrow and we will come pick up Sherlock’s new pet,” said John with a grin that made Seb shiver to his bones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's set up but I promise it will be worth it in the end.
> 
> COmment s and Kudos are appreciated. And I do know that I have to go back and fix some continuity in the previous chapter

**Author's Note:**

> I have had this one rolling around in my head for a bit and decided to post to to see if I can clear the writing cobwebs so I can get back to some other tales I have started.


End file.
